What Comes Next
by ABloodyWonder
Summary: When you die even if the strongest, most courageous of men, you will be feeling your legs shake and your teeth clutter and the most unnerving of questions will shoot through your head. "What next?". Attend the aftertales of Sweeney Todd and Nellie Lovett
1. Prologue

**What Comes Next.**

A whole bunch of things have been said about life, and are said still. _Life is unfair_. We've all said that, at least once. Well. It is not true. It is a big lie. Saying life is unfair is one, grand understatement. Life is a conniving bitch. And far more.

But of course, death is _so_ much worse.

Death is a blasted, wretched thing. And yet, we all have to go through with it. And even the strongest, most courageous of men will be feeling his legs shake and his teeth clutter, he will fall to the floor and hug his knees when all he sees in front of him is the flaming smirk of death.

And as you quiver and shake, the most unnerving of questions will shoot through your head "_what next?_".

* * *

_This is short. Really short. But check out the title, sais "prologue" aaaand... I already have the first chappie written.  
So, if you want to know more... click that arrow-y button on the right of your screens._

_Love.  
ABloodyWonder_


	2. The Blackness

**What Comes Next.**

Mrs Lovett opened her eyes, the hotness from the oven still on her skin, and, although it sounded weird and contorted, that same hotness that had devoured her, now made her feel somehow safe. So, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Then squinted them. _What is this place?_ She thought aloud.

"This place, you traitorous bitch, is death." Groaned a voice from behind her, a voice that she knew well.

"Mista' T!" she cried out in relief. But that relief was quickly transformed in rage as soon as she remembered _why_ she was in there in the first place. "You…you killed me!"

"Yes, _love_. And I'm far from being done with you"

There was so much venom in the way he'd called her love that it stung. _Oh, by the bloody depths of hell, what on earth does he have to do to get you to stop loving him? Eh, silly woman? He's killed you and you still feel hurt when he's harsh at you! Get a grip over yourself._

She tried to reply his menacing words, but was interrupted by the unsettling feeling of the floor bumping forward under her feet, sliding and stopping in a jerky movement. _What kid of wretched place was that? _She thought to herself as she fell on her knees and hands.

She stared down, and her reflection stared back. It was a mirror, she was standing over a bloody moving mirror! She raised her head shakily, she was starting to not like that place. She raised her eyes, shivering slightly. In front of her, and behind her, stood men. Men, women, children, all in a line, some hunched down on the ground, still recovering from the last shake of the wretched mirror, some wobblingly standing up, some had found a way to resist the steady movements of the ground under their feet.

So, there was a line of men, long, enormous. It seemed to go on forever. But at the end of that forever, was a hole. When she finally tore her eyes from the cavity before her- still a long way from her, to her relief- she moved her eyes upwards. _Oh_. All around, nothing but shiny blackness. _Oh_. It was beautiful, blackness without boundaries, not even the mirror under her seemed to just be a continuation of the great blackness above.

Her thoughts were interrupted once again by the movement. The floor slid and stopped. Once again. And again. And each time, a man or woman or child was swallowed by the hole in front of them. She shivered. The time would come when she would be swallowed too.

Only then she did realize that she'd cut short the little "conversation" with mister T. And she was NOT going to let him get away with a threat. Not anymore.

"Well, love there 'ardly is sumthin' you can do ta make things worse, ay? We are dead." Then revelation struck her. "Wait…you're...you are _dead_. Wha-?"

"Your son"

Oh. Toby, her little sweet Toby she'd left on that cruel world alone, sweet little Toby that she'd intended to kill and then…he'd vindicated her.

"Toby" she said, her voice shaky.

"Toby is the last of your problems now, Lovett" he uttered glumly.

"And what is? If I may ask"

"That is." And he gave a small nod, pointing in front of her. She turned her head slowly, and saw the hole. Straight in front of her. Glaring in all his menacing fury.

_Oh. Bugger._

* * *

_Taaadaaaah!  
So, now...what will our Mrs Lovett find inside the hole? Stay tuned to find out!  
Please review me, tell me if it sucked... ok, tell me if it sucked THAT bad :)  
Um...was thinking of getting a beta, seeing Im not mothertongue and all...How do I do that?  
If anyone wished to beta-me... puhlease do_

_'K, I'll leave ye for now. Maybe going to write a second chappie tonight...maybe not...  
Maybe NEVER!  
Its up to you. YOU. Review me!_

_Bye luves.  
ABloodyWonder_


	3. Welcome To The Afterlife

**What Comes Next.**

"Its Nellie Lovett, am I correct?"

"You are, sir."

"burnt alive, is it? We've been having a few of those lately. Used to get a lot, women, all of them. Believed to be witches, they were" he chuckled slightly.

"yes, sir. Burnt alive." She mumbled uncomfortably.

"murdered by Sweeney Todd, alias Benjamin Barker… who I believe is the man you love, is he now?" and with that the small man in front of her bent his head slightly to peek over his spectacles at the woman in front of him.

"Does that matter?"

"everything matters. There is no privacy anymore, Nellie Lovett, have entered the world of the dead."

He seemed to be enjoying himself. _That noisy, unnerving git_, having fun, is he?

In front of her sat a plump man, in his early sixties, with round little eyeglasses sitting on the end of his pointy nose, behind those, were two beady, greyish eyes. But other than that, he was chuckling. Chuckling while going through a file. _Her_ file, with _her_ name written on the cover. And he chuckled. Reading through _her_ file.

She was never known for her patience, or tolerance.

She stepped closer and slammed the file shut with both hands, leaning over his desk, glaring at the now-very-serious man sitting in front of her.

"You have _no_ right"

"I actually do." He said with a grim smile.

He tore the file from under her fingers and went back to flipping through its pages. He stopped. And bent the file down, so it lay on the desk, open. His eyes shot up to her.

"Aah" he said, in a calm voice, nearly a whisper. "But you _d_o love him. Still. You love your own _murderer_." His voice lost its whispering tone and switched to a high pitched, mocking one "how sad is that?"

He was right.

Her eyes fell low, as her lips started to slightly quiver. She didn't want to look at this mean, hideous man in front of her. She let her gaze fall on the file on the desk, it read "feelings".

"This is personal, sir"

"There is _no_ personal left, Mrs Lovett. Not anymore"

With that he stood up. She would have giggled at his shortness in any other moment, but now she was far too busy trying to keep back her sobs. He was right, she did love her murderer, the man that had brought her life to an end. The man who would never love her back, to who's eyes she was less than invisible. She fought back the urge to cry.

Still, a single teardrop escaped her eye and fell slowly down her cheek.

And then, the weirdest of things happened.

The man rushed for a little glass bottle on his desk at poked it under Mrs Lovett's eye. Capturing her teardrop.

She gasped and stepped backwards.

His mean, accusing facial expression switched to one of joy.

"Finally!" he laughed.

"Wha-what was tha' for?"

"Usually takes me much less, was a tricky one, you was!" he kept shouting, not answering her question.

"SIR!" she shouted back. "Will you answer me, now? What was that?" all the shakiness had left her voice, replaced by anger.

He pulled himself together.

"Now, Nellie Lovett, I will explain. You have entered the murderer department. And that…conversation we had before, well, that was to get you to react, I needed a sample of teardrop. For the analyses. You will have your results tomorrow"

"Killer depar-what? I never killed anyone. It was Sw- mister Todd that did that."

"Have you not?" he raised a brow and gave her a stern look form over his glasses. He sat down again and went back looking through her folder's papers. Then stopped and gave a little satisfied "ah" as he found the page.

"24th June 1805. Albert Lovett is deceased by the hands of his wife, Mrs Nellie Lovett." He gave her a satisfied look.

"I did not _kill_ Albert"

"But you left him to die. Counts the same. Plus, you were the accomplish of a mass murderer after that. Don't doubt it, you are in the correct department, Lovett." He smiled up at her in victory as she let herself fall on the chair in front of him.

"Very well" he said, still smiling "You will be residing in room 20187, here is your key, you will be given further instructions later, by your guardian." He handed her a key attached to a little piece of carved wood that read:

MURDERER'S DEPARTMENT

Room 20187

Eleanor Lovett

When she raised her eyes from the key she saw the man impatiently pointing towards a door.

"That way to the rooms, Nellie Lovett, you'll find that reaching yours is exceedingly simple."

She stepped towards the door, raised a quivering hand towards the handle, turned to salute the man, but decided against it. He had not been any nice to her. She stepped angrily through the door.

* * *

The beady-eyed man gave a sigh and passed his hands through the little mop of white hair that was left on his head He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Then he bent down in a cupboard and took a white label, he meticulously wrote on it name and room number of the woman who'd just left the room, then attached it on the bottle containing her tear.

He took in and placed it with the others, in an apposite container on the shelve.

He rubbed his hands on his face, trying to wake himself up. He knew that the next one would not be a simple one. He grimaced at the door and pushed on the red button on the left of his desk.

The floor slid under the dead-men's feet, making its horrible, slithering sound. He sighed once more as the door opened.

"Its Sweeney Todd, alias Benjamin Barker, am I correct?"

* * *

_Ey lovelies!  
K...first of all... I already got the next cahappie written, so you're getting two today... secondly I am having SO much fun writing this Its exhilarating )...laaastly I am in LOVE with all of you. You being meh reviewers. I luuurve you. You really make me want to write.  
I promise solemnly that THIS will have a happy ending. And that there will be Sweenett. And the rating COULD go up too :)_

_Soooh...thankies to:  
ConfusedColumbia, ByTheBeautifulSea,Luminessa122006, Tallica86 (whom I love :) ) , piratestorm, Morwynn ( whom I also love), BabyBluewinx (too)_

I am going to answer separately to the reviews cuz its confusing for me to write it all down together :)

Soo...see you in a few...seconds, next chap coming up :)  
ABloodyWonder (hope you enjoy, cuz I love this chap)


	4. Torture

**What Comes Next.**

"Its Sweeney Todd, alias Benjamin Barker, am I correct?"

"I suppose you know already"

"I do." And with that he shot a dirty look at the man that stood in front of him. _Will not be an easy one, this one_.

Sweeney Todd was so very different from the woman that had left that room a few seconds before. While she'd been scared by the place, the man, the blackness outside, he was annoyed. He knew where he belonged, by god's sake, he was a murderer! Why on earth did he have to go through all this examination crap? He was pretty sure to go to hell anyways, not like he cared. He shot the room a bored look.

It was all put in its proper place, so annoyingly tidy. So horridly proper. And so…white. The walls were white, the man's hair was white, the man's clothes were white. The ceiling and the door were white. And what was not white was made of glass. Shiny, polished glass, the room was filled with cupboards, tidy and neat. The desk was empty except for a pencil and a pen, positioned horizontally to the desk's edge, and a white pencil sharpener.

He'd never liked white. Red, red was nice.

He was so taken by glaring at the whiteness of the room that it was a while before he noticed that the man in front of him was flipping through the pages of a folder. A folder with _his_ name on it.

"What is that?"

"It is your life, Barker"

"Firstly, my name is Sweeney Todd, secondly… that is _personal_" he uttered, his voice a menacing whisper, his eyes narrowed.

"You are wrong, Barker, there is no personal, in the afterlife."

"Its _Todd_." he whispered once again, his voice a low growl.

"As I said, seems you get no choice down here, the entire concept of "self" is dead. Just like your" he gave the folder a narrow look "Lucy."

His eyes went up to meet the cold ones of the barber in front of him. The demon barber of Fleet Street stood motionless, his lips sending out no sound, but one could read a word on his lips. _Lucy_.

"Dead by your hand, is she? So much for a loving husband." He snorted. He looked up to see his reaction, but before he could even let his eyes reach the face of the man, he felt two, strong hands gripping at his neck.

"Don't ever talk about Lucy"

"I think I will" he said, escaping his deadly grip.

"With the excuse of revenging your wife, so _beautiful_ and _virtuous_, you sated your bloodlust on innocent men, how do you even know you did not destroy their families, just like your own was destroyed?" he questioned accusingly "You are very much alike that hated judge Turpin of yours"

_It is__ still not enough_, he realized, as the man's hands went back to his neck, _I am not getting him to cry, I'm just making him mad_.

Change of tactics.

"And what about that little lad you were about to kill, back in your shop, eh, mister Barker? Do you have _any_ idea of who he was? Ever thought of it? Who was supposed to be arriving at your place that same night, disguised so no one would recognize…_her_?"

The crazed man in front of him let the hands fall from his neck.

"Johanna" he uttered, his voice quivering, nearly imperceptibly.

"Oh, yes. Your _little dove_, Johanna."

Not enough still. Damn.

"Oh yes, and then. That damned same night, remember? She came in your shop, a sad, unrecognizable, mad beggar, dressed in rags. And yet, in her madness, she _did_ recognize you. And you, you who claim to be her ever-loving husband, you. did. not."

* * *

As the man with the white strand in his hair stepped out of the door, he stood up and tucked a little glass bottle in the container. It read:

SWEENEY TODD alias BENJAMIN BARKER

Room 20188

And inside it, shone one, bright, shiny teardrop.

* * *

_Wooh! This is quite short, but I LOVED writing it, so you'd better appreciate!  
Its parallel to the last chappie, but I promise the story is going to move on in the next ones :)  
Tell me what you thought!_

_Did ya know that every time you review a demon barber cries after 15 years he didn't?  
BTW...I PROMISE I'm gonna keep that Lucy tramp out of the story as much as I can ) Sorry to all the Lucylovers. But I do NOT like her._

_Review me, or else, as always.  
ABloodyWonder_


	5. Exceedingly Simple

**What Comes Next.**

"You will find the way to your room exceedingly simple. _You will find the way to your room exceedingly simple! _What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

She hissed in rage looking at all the hundreds of doors standing in front of her. Hundreds. And there seemed to be no sense in the way they were disposed. The room number appeared to be totally casual, and the doors, the bloody doors, lay anywhere, anywhere. On the walls or on the floor, on the stairs leading to the different floors, on the ceiling.

It was a mess. A maze of uncountable doors, and stairs, and floors.

She tried to turn her helplessness feelings into ones of fury. Weeping never did anyone good. She left herself slide down the door she'd just walked through, bumping her back hardly against it and puffing loudly as she slid down it.

"_Its Sweeney Todd, alias Benjamin Barker, am I correct?"_ a whisper, a soft, soft whisper, from under the door.

Her eyes snapped open. _Sweeney_. Of course, he was next, he'd been in the line, right after her. _Got to tell 'em…got tah warn 'em!_ Actually, did she have to? Why should she? Why would she ever bother to warn him? Why should she care? He'd killed her. She'd loved him with all her heart, and he'd killed her.

She bent her head back even more, tears starting to form at the corners of her closed eyes. But she fought back. No. Concentrate. She wanted to know…hear what was going on. She wanted to hear the man who'd torn her apart brake into a desperate cry. She wanted him as heartbroken as he'd made her.

Silence. Then crashing sounds. Words she could not quite understand. Anger-filled, murderous whispering. Silence.

And then the door was roughly opened. And she fell back.

A pair of black, menacing eyes bore into hers. Bloodshot eyes, actually…more bloodshot than they usually were. Oh god. He'd cried. He'd actually cried. Sweeney Todd, demon barber of Fleet Street, had cried. Like a baby, like a woman, like a man. Man meaning human. He had cried.

But, of course, he'd gotten out of there. That horrid, beady-eyed man would never let someone out before fulfilling his sadistic duty.

"You were _spying_ on me!"

"Oh no, no, not at all, love." She stammered "oh no, never. Just…just I think I'm lost" her voice slightly above a whisper.

He kept staring at her, bending over her fallen figure. Then bent further.

For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, or kill her.

Probably the latter.

He bent next to her, kneeling down, their bodies so close. His hand went for her face, the back of the hand lightly caressing her cheek, until she closed her eyes, loosing herself in the bliss of the moment. As soon as that happened, his hand lost all of it's gentleness, rushing to her hair and tugging at it, so strong that she was forced to stand up with him.

"A spy and a liar"

"I lied for you" she whispered, her eyes closed and her lips barely moving.

"You lied for yourself, for your selfish reasons." he gave a hateful smirk "because you loved Benjamin, because you wanted him"

_Oh_. So he'd been listening after all. All of her sweet blabbing about the seaside, and her fondness for him. Too bad she only came to know that now, as he hated her with all of his soul.

"I lied for _you_" she insisted "I…" oh, this was going to be difficult to say "I didn't want you to suffer. I didn't want you to see her like that, begging and whoring herself on the streets for a few pennies. I only did it for you."

She felt the grip loosen on her hair.

Her eyes snapped open as she felt his breath on her skin. His face was oh-so-close. Barely centimetres from hers. His eyes, those eyes always so filled with anger, frustration, hate, his brow, always so hitched together, in a face of despair, his whole face, was contorted in an expression of confusion and, somehow…fear.

He got a grip over himself. Fast.

She felt herself being slammed against the wall behind her, his face even closer, their eyes boring into each other's, their noses touching. His face of sorrow was replaced by one of anger, and hers was contorted by fear.

"Don't you ever talk about Lucy"

* * *

_Where on earth-no, not earth-, anyways, where on this goddamn place are they? _Grumbled a tall, slim man in his early fifties. His hair was greying and there were a few wrinkles on his forehead, but it only enhanced his charm. _God, newcomers are always such idiots_.

But these were going to be fun, finally. Sweeney Todd and Nellie Lovett, he had been waiting for them to arrive! Finally some fine, real, serious murderers! Like he had been. Jack the ripper. Oh god, he'd loved-he still loved- the sound of it.

Ah! There they were.

He seriously pondered turning his back to them and coming back later, but then saw they were not about to start some gross makeup scene. More probably they were going to eat each other alive-um…dead.

He cleared his throat loudly to get their attention, they merely snapped their eyes at him, unmoving.

"When you two lovebirds decide to get away from each other I'll be happy to explain a few things about this place."

He received two glares so cold he thought he could freeze to the spot. But remained calm. He'd dealt with worse.

"I'm Jack, I'll be showing you around. Now, ladies, follow me."

* * *

_Eyyyy loveees! So long, no see!  
Sooooooorry it took me so long to update, school troubles! Anyways I think I could write a pair of chappies tomorrow, IF you leave me some feedback! :)  
Hope you like this, its kind of a filler chappie I guess.  
In the next one we get to see the rooms... now THEN we could get some action :)_

_Soooh, thanks to all meh GREAT reviewers!  
PirateStorm, Tallica86, Shadowstar513, Moningstar and Morwynn_

_Bye Lurveees!  
ABloodyWonder_


	6. Pictures On A Wall

**What Comes Next.**

As soon as Mr Todd released her, Mrs Lovett started rubbing at her own scull. _Ouch_. She walked off indignantly, following the handsome man in front of her.

Sweeney leant against the door once more, frowning at the two. He was going to have his revenge. He was. That…filthy bitch, she'd lied. Lied about Lucy. She was as guilty as the judge. She'd destroyed his life. He was going to destroy her afterlife.

_But you killed her already._

_Its not half enough, she will pay._

_She did it for you._

_Shut. Up. Go haunt someone else._

He followed them glumly down the corridor.

"Now, for the rooms. Rooms will be where you want them to be. You just need to touch the wall…the floor…the ceiling with the key and doors will appear." He gave them a look. The Lovett woman was staring at the multitude of doors with an astonished face, the barber was just looking annoyed "Try, now" he said to her.

Mrs Lovett took the key from her cleavage, giving Jack a small smile, and pointed it uncertainly to the wall. As soon as her trembling hand reached the wall, a light red door appeared.

"Mr Todd…" he encouraged the man to do the same.

Sweeney's hand reached annoyedly into his pocket and picked the key from it. His door was a deep shade of crimson, _beautiful_, he thought.

Jack noticed happily that it was the same colour his was. This man, he'd be interesting.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and spoke out again "The doors, you see? All different colours. Well, a door is darker or lighter depending on your sins. Namely, how many geezers you've wiped off. Anyways…You'll have time to visit your rooms later, now, please, follow me."

He lead them to a door. The door was bigger than the ones they'd seen in the corridor, and was painted black. Upon it shone a sign that read "Hall Of Fame"

"Hall of fame, that is" he chuckled lightly as he put his hand on the doorknob "but people here call it 'hall of blame'"

He pushed the door slowly, revealing a room, as black as its door was, completely bare. There was nothing, no furniture, no tables, no beds. Nothing. Except the pictures on its walls. Hundreds, thousands of pictures, framed in deep crimson, some deeper and some lighter.

As they moved closer they could see that more pictures were being hung up, and all of them were framed in crimson, and on their bottom, lay written a small, red number.

_Oh._ Mrs Lovett slightly shuddered when she found herself staring into her own face, her picture, it was being hung now. An image of herself stared back, framed in a light red, just like the door had been, and on its bottom lay the number "1".

Mr Todd, too, was not very pleased to find himself staring into his own deadly features, his frame was a considerably deeper shade of crimson, nearly black, and on the bottom of his picture lay a much bigger number "79"

Oh yes, they'd been 75 before that blasted evening, he'd kept the count. He did some simple maths, yes. 79.

He stared distractedly into his own picture until the moment in which his eyes fell on another thing that got his interest.

Up there, hang the portrait of the man, the guide…the fellow who'd been showing them around, what's his name? Jack? Jack. Anyways, he was there too. It read "56". Ah, very well. Not bad, not bad at all. But he'd beat him.

He felt considerably giddy about that.

Jack saw where his gaze was pointed and shivered slightly.

"56." Todd stated.

"56." He said, nearly dreamily, staring into his portrait.

He turned around to look into the barber's face "Me and you, we are very alike, you know?" he waited for a response to that, but it didn't come.

"It started as revenge, ended as bloodshed" at that, Sweeney turned to face him. "how many of _yours_ deserved it?"

"78" he lied. All but Lucy, he'd said. But that was a lie. A big lie, by the way. It had been three, three that deserved it. Judge, beadle and _her_. Oh, she was going to pay.

* * *

He walked behind the two of them, glaring at their backs. Her laughter pierced his ears. She had no right to laugh. No right at all. And why would she be laughing?

She was laughing at some goofy joke he'd said. Or something as useless as that. She smiled and he smiled back, her blush spreading to her much-too-visible chest. His brow furrowed.

They were _flirting_.

Sweeney Todd explained the sudden pang in his stomach with the simple fact that he was bothered by her being much happier than she deserved, but it was a _lie_. A childish lie uncovered when he felt the urge to tear his hand from her shoulder, or just tear it clear off.

Then he left, and she turned to look at his back and gave a little sigh, before disappearing in her room. He could take no more. He swiftly followed her. She was going to pay. Pay for making him feel like a goddamn school-buy with a crush. Oh she was going to pay.

* * *

Mrs Lovett couldn't suppress a gasp as she entered her room. It was far bigger than any room she'd ever been in, and it was _beautiful_. Mrs Lovett could not find any other way of describing it. Beautiful.

And in the middle was a queen-sized bed, covered in the finest of silks.

Mrs Lovett didn't have time to notice more than that, she was brutally brought back to earth-earth?- by a bruising hold on her shoulder she knew much too well.

* * *

_Lurveees! Its been FAR too long. I'm SO sorryyyyyyy!  
Plus it IS some kind of cliffhanger, which is really mean. I promise the next chappie will get interestingggg :D  
Now, I love this chappie but it was SO hard to write._

_I totally gotta thank my GREAT reviewers, you make my bloody day!  
BleedingNissa, Ms. Rosemary Mees, Tallica86, Luminessa122006, BabyBluewinx, ConfusedColumbia26220, Morwynn, Piratestorm, Shadowstar513, LovettsLover_

_You ROCK MY SOCKS!  
I am going to try writo more tonight but I'm promising nothing!_

_ABloodyWonder  
p.s. anyone tatally in love with Draco&Hermione? Cuz I luuuurve them._


	7. No More Obstacles

**What Comes Next.**

She felt his hands on her shoulders, gripping on her flesh, bruising, his nails digging in her, his nose buried in her tangled hair. She slowly turned around, to find herself facing the man. It was so wrong, so wrong that he'd killed her and she would still loose herself in those cold, unmoving eyes, her breath would quicken when he was close and she'd stammer. It was _wrong_.

And yet she turned around and shivered as their eyes met.

His, were black. Black, dead eyes. She'd always thought that his eyes resembled the ones of a corpse, she'd seen plenty of those, and now, well now there was no mistaking. He _was_ dead.

His hands moved from her shoulders to her neck, gripping tightly, tightly enough to leave red marks, but not to suffocate her. He slammed her against the wall.

And then he staring tearing slices from her heart. One by one.

"Oh, I hate you. I hate you, Nellie Lovett"

_First Slice._

"You. You lied to me. You destroyed me."

_Second Slice._

"You took from me all I had. You. You took it from me"

_Third Slice._

"Filth. You are bloody filth. It was YOU!"

_Fourth._

"You killed her. You killed ME!"

Fifth.

"And then why, Nellie Lovett? Why?" he spoke into her ear, her hair tickling his face. His voice was dangerously low, a menacing whisper, but it broke, it broke on the last sentence, and his eyes, his proverbially cold and unmoving eyes, there was something new, unbelievable and so out of character. Fear.

She bent him now. She had tried and tried to seduce him, all those idiotic, futile attempts, those not-so-innocent strokes on his arm, those whispered words, it had never worked. But today, today he was dead, and he had nothing to live for. No Lucy, no anything. And eternity to go. And she'd seemed so different, today. And that urge, that breathtaking urge to tear her away from that serpent, why? Why had it affected him so? Why?

"Why do you do this to me?"

His grip relented on her neck, he was not bruising her anymore, his hands were barely feeling her racing pulse.

The last words she heard from him before his mouth crashed down on hers were something concerning his undying hate for her. But she couldn't care less.

He was _kissing_ her.

Of course, it was more like he was eating her off. But she'd never thought of him as gentle, she never either _wanted_ him to be gentle! So she let him go on, not like she had any choice, she realized.

His hands grasped at her back, tearing at her corset, revealing her pale, ample chest. He didn't bother to get her to the bed, he slid her down the wall and onto the floor, scraping her back. He kissed her roughly once more before moving on to her delicate, pale neck.

Humorous, as he was now sucking and kissing at the very same spot he used to slit in all of those unfortunate customers of his. He gave a soft, menacing chuckle and bit down on her. Drawing blood. She hissed sharply, trying to suppress a scream. He licked at the droplets of crimson, moaning as it's salty taste reached his papilla.

He slid further down, biting his way down her body and through the fabric of her dress, sliding his hands down her sides.

She let her head fall back, in pure ecstasy. Opening her eyes only slightly when she felt his teeth grazing her nipple. She let out a soft moan and entangled her hands in his hair, her legs instinctively wrapping themselves on him.

Then her eyes snapped open. She couldn't let him do this! He'd killed her. He'd killed her and she was letting him…have his wicked way with her. Oh no. She was not going to let this happen. If there was something she was proud of was her being a strong woman.

Her hands froze in his hair, stopping him, moving his head so he faced her, his eyes filled with such hatred and...lust?

"Stop." She'd meant to sound firm, but her voice had been nothing more than a quivering whisper "We can't."

"And why is that, my pet?" he roared, his eyes burning in hers, his hands still clutching at her sides.

"You killed me" her voice was merely a whisper.

"Yes! And you want it anyway" he insisted, his voice low and husky, giving away his aroused state.

"I…yes…I do. But. No." she would wait, she had eternity after all! And he'd killed her the day before, surely today she would not be bedding him.

His eyes bore into hers for a few last seconds and then he tore away from her, and dashed out of her room, leaving her laying on the floor, shivering and bare.

That night, Mrs Lovett went to bed with a smile. He was going to come back.

* * *

_Yaaay! I HAD promised I'd get another chappie up!  
So luves, its like...so really really late and I prolly wrote a load of crap.  
I'm not gonna write more and give all the "thanks" out in the next chap. Me. Off. To. Sleep. :)_

_Hope you enjoyed.  
Ps Toldja the rating would go up :)))))_

_ABloodyWonder_


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